


Charting A Course

by CozyMittens



Category: Mary Poppins (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-13 11:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CozyMittens/pseuds/CozyMittens
Summary: Did you really think it was Mary Poppins who brought Jack and Jane together?  Think again.
Relationships: Jane Banks & Jack
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

The two elderly men had been up since sparrowfart. From the upstairs windows of Number 16 they watched the early morning choreography on Cherry Tree Lane. It was like a ballet. Doors opened, vehicles passed, people stepped in and around. Each had a job and a purpose. The Sunday paper had been left at each door. Coal had been delivered to Miss Lark’s. The family in Number 19 had left for church. Miss Banks had dropped by this morning to visit her brother. All these events had been duly noted by Mr. Binnacle as he waited the proper time to take the Admiral outside. He did not want to be too early moving his patient out into the chilly morning air.

A bout of pneumonia over the winter had severely weakened the old seafarer and confined him to his suite of rooms on the upper floor. Now Mr. Binnacle was gravely concerned over his state of mind. The Admiral’s spirits were very low. The death of young Mrs. Banks next door had been a blow. In just a few days it would be a year since her passing and the Admiral had confided in Mr. Binnacle that he couldn’t understand why he had been spared when others so much younger with so much to look forward to had been taken. Clearly the Admiral needed something to interest him in the world of the living and take his mind off his isolation and illness, but what could it be? 

To date Mr. Binnacle’s greatest success had been Big Ben. While the Admiral was recovering Mr. Binnacle had set his watch back by one minute each week. The resulting time discrepancy had enraged the Admiral and brought him out of the dangerous lethargy the doctor had been so concerned about. The Admiral had roused himself to get out of bed and go above deck every morning where he delivered blistering attacks on the Big Ben Buffoons who were ruining the country. He wrote angry letters to the papers which Mr. Binnacle prudently didn’t mail, and threatened to call the mayor. Fortunately, the telephone was on the first floor and the Admiral confined to the upper deck until he could manage the stairs. It would be nice thought Mr. Binnacle if he could get the Admiral interested in a human problem for a change, but it was a challenge. Most of their old friends had already left this vale of tears and there were few young people that they knew. Mr. Binnacle’s thoughts turned to the one young person he knew well. 

Thank goodness for Jack. They would never have made it through the last winter without him. Jack had fetched medicine and picked up groceries. He had stayed with the Admiral when Mr. Binnacle needed time to rest. And he had helped with some of the daily chores and repairs that the old house needed. Bert and Jack were as close to family as you could get. Admiral Boom and Mr. Binnacle had known Jack since he was younger than Georgie Banks next door. They had helped Bert raise him during those early years when Bert had taken on the care of the young orphaned child. Both men had followed Jack’s travels and adventures with avid interest. Now that Bert was traveling it was nice to have Jack back. Mr. Binnacle spotted him coming from the park on his bike. It was time to go out and ready the cannon.

From the roof of Number 16 Mr. Binnacle and the Admiral watched as the milk man greeted Jack and made his delivery. Jack balanced his ladder against the lamp post and started to climb. The Banks children must be watching this morning, because they saw Jack glance up and wave towards the nursery before he climbed to where he could reach the lantern. Jack ran through his morning routine of turning down the gas, polishing the glass and checking the mantle. Now, thought Mr. Binnacle, was the time to put his idea into action. 

The seed of the idea had been planted this very morning when pretty Miss Banks had entered her brother’s house. During the following hour it had taken root and blossomed in Mr. Binnacles mind. It might be just the ticket. Mr. Binnacle had reason to know that the Admiral’s library contained many volumes that could only be described as romances. These were not the trashy modern novels so prevalent in bookstores. These were the classics of the genre. The Admiral was a great admirer of Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters. He had read Richardson’s Pamela and wept over the tragedy of Clarissa. He had even dipped into the pages of Dangerous Liaisons. Perhaps a bit of real life romance would be just the thing to engage him back in the business of living.

“It’s time he settled down,” said Mr. Binnacle, looking at Jack who was blissfully unaware of Mr. Binnacle machinations. “He needs a family of his own now that all his friends are getting married and Bert is traveling.”

“Says he’s too busy and doesn’t have enough money,” grunted the Admiral. “Not even trying to look.”

“True,” agreed Mr. Binnacle. “There are only so many hours in a day and he’s working so hard. Sometimes I fear we’ve taken too much of his time.”

“Just a burden now,” sighed the Admiral.

“Maybe we could help,” suggested Mr. Binnacle.

“How? Won’t take any money. Told him he could stay in the guest room for no charge, but he says he doesn’t want to be a bother. Stubborn, just like Bert.”

“I wasn’t thinking about money or room and board,” said Mr. Binnacle. “I was thinking more about his romantic life. Perhaps we should try to introduce him to someone.”

The Admiral snorted, “There’s no way he’ll let us do that!”

“That is why we must be subtle,” replied Mr. Binnacle. “We can’t let him know what we’re doing.”

The Admiral was starting to be interested. “But who? We don’t know any young women.”

“Oh but we do,” said Mr. Binnacle. “I was thinking that perhaps Miss Banks might be a suitable candidate.”

“Jane Banks!” The Admiral was thunderstruck. “But she’s not interested in men. Always gallivanting around like her mother, into one cause or another. Wears pants too.”

“Miss Banks has not evinced any interest in men since her unhappy engagement ended so many years ago. He was not a worthy young man and he did not treat her well. I believe her heart was broken and she has resigned herself to a life of loneliness.” This was a masterstroke on Mr. Binnacle’s part. The Admiral had very old fashioned ideas and didn’t approve of young women who wore trousers and concerned themselves in other people’s affairs. He had never pictured Miss Banks as the heroine of a broken romance. But now he was touched by the image of Miss Banks living in heartbroken solitude, devoting herself to endless causes to fill the time. The Admiral’s heart stirred in sympathy. Noticing the softening expression on the Admiral’s face Mr. Binnacle pushed his advantage.

“Miss Banks is a dutiful sister and is very fond of her niece and nephews. She has been frequently at the house helping her brother since Mrs. Bank’s death. Surely this speaks of a loving and tender heart. And,” he continued, “she is quite pretty. Jack is a young man, he may find pants on a woman attractive.”

“But they’re so different,” murmured the Admiral.

“Yes, their backgrounds are very different, but Jack is a most superior young man and well read. I daresay he’s equal in intelligence and knowledge to any gentleman of her acquaintance. And her background could be an asset to him in his chosen endeavors.”

“Yes, yes, that’s very true,” said the Admiral thoughtfully. Mr. Binnacle was pleased. The Admiral’s romantic sensibilities were being stirred. The narrative Mr. Binnacle had provided now held a brave, lonely heroine and a deserving hero bridging the chasm of birth and social class to unite in the bonds of love. The story only lacked a villain. It was too bad Miss Bank’s father was no longer available to object to the match. Perhaps her brother might suffice. “Of course Michael Banks might not approve of such a match,” said Mr. Binnacle softly.

“Michael Banks, damned, arrogant puppy!” growled the Admiral. “What business is it of his who his sister marries? No call to go objecting to Jack just because he doesn’t make his living working in a bank!” Mr. Binnacle smiled. His fish had taken the bait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sparrow fart—English navy slang for early morning or dawn


	2. Chapter 2

On most days Jack would head off to one of his other jobs once he finished his lamp lighting duties, for just like Bert he worked several jobs to make ends meet. But if it was a Sunday morning Jack loaded his ladder on his bike and wheeled that vehicle behind the Admiral’s house where he came in the back door and joined the Admiral and Mr. Binnacle for breakfast. Neither man would have denied him entrance through the front door but as Mr. Binnacle explained it would have required knocking. Jack was free to enter by the back door anytime he pleased.

On this Sunday morning breakfast was laid out in the kitchen. A tray waited on the counter for the Admiral’s breakfast with the Sunday paper laying close by. Jack headed for the stove where a pot of coffee was warming. He picked up a mug and noticing the time on the wall clock decided to wait a moment. Sure enough the shock of canon fire shook the house. Jack waited until the silverware in the drawers stopped vibrating then picked up the pot and poured a cup of coffee.

In a few minutes Mr. Binnacle came into the kitchen and began putting food on the tray. He was well pleased with this morning’s work for even now the Admiral was upstairs wondering how they could get the unlikely couple to meet and if Miss Banks would be able to see past Jack’s shabby work clothes and appreciate his sterling qualities.

“How is he this morning?” asked Jack.

“Much better I think,” said Mr. Binnacle smiling at Jack. “I believe his spirits have improved considerably. He says to come up after you’re done eating. He’d like to see you.”

Jack nodded and took a seat at the table. He had been relieved to see the Admiral above deck this morning. Jack had always regarded the old seafarer as invincible and it made him sad to see the blustery, pugnacious Admiral confined to a wheelchair. Mr. Binnacle carried the tray and newspaper upstairs and returned a few minutes later. He picked up a plate and began filling it with bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. “ Aren’t you hungry this morning?” he asked Jack.

“Sorry, just thinking,” said Jack. He rose and began fixing his own plate. Breakfast was his favorite meal, but he missed pancakes and maple syrup. He had gotten quite addicted to maple syrup during his time in the States, though he had initially been put off by thinking of it as tree sap. He smiled at the memories. His American friends had been just as perturbed by his preference for beans on toast. 

Mr. Binnacle was now seated at the table tucking into his eggs. “Did you finish the song?” he asked when Jack sat down opposite. It was a never ending source of wonder to Mr. Binnacle that he knew someone who could write a song. He was sure that Jack must be very talented and would soon be famous.

“Almost, I was trying it out on the way in,” said Jack. He liked to move when he was writing and often worked out the sticky bits on his morning route. So far Jack’s songs had bought him no fame and even less money but he was determined to keep working at it.

“Someday you’ll be rich and famous like Cole Porter and I can say I knew you when,” said Mr. Binnacle.

“Not like Cole Porter,” protested Jack. “Cole Porter is a genius and a trained musician.”

“So maybe you’re a genius too. And what does all that education matter if you can’t write a good tune. There must be hundreds of composers who never went to school for it.” 

There were. Jack kept a list in his pocket of his favorites—Edward Elgar, Modest Musorgsky, Irving Berlin and George Gershwin—all men who had started out with little or no formal training yet had become successful composers. He looked at it for inspiration when he needed it. Lately that had been quite often.

Jack and Mr. Binnacle spent the rest of the meal talking about this and that. Jack had a letter from Bert but was saving it until they went upstairs and he could share it with the Admiral too. The Admiral was very interested in Bert’s letter and commented on the various ports of call Bert had visited. But he had other matters to tend to. The problem of Miss Banks’ trousers was foremost in his mind. Miss Banks would be a very foolish woman if she couldn’t look past Jack’s work clothes to see the worthy man inside, but what if Jack was similarly affected by her fashion choices. He was not at all convinced by Mr. Binnacle’s assertion that Jack might find a lady in trousers attractive. 

How to introduce this delicate topic without Jack realizing what he was doing was quite a challenge. However, fortune seemed to be with him this morning. Paging through the newspaper he had found a story about an American actress. The Admiral folded the paper back so the photo was front and center and then laid it next to his tray. Once Bert’s letter had been thoroughly discussed, the Admiral brought the conversation around to Jack’s own travels. “Did you ever meet anyone famous while you were in the States,” he asked.

“No, why?” Jack was perplexed by the change in subject.

“Just wondering, saw this article in the paper this morning and wondered if you ever met her when you were there.”

Jack looked down at the picture. “Katharine Hepburn? Not likely. She lives out in Hollywood. There’s a whole country between California and New York where I was.”

“Not really done you know, least not in my day,” said the Admiral. “Do they do it more in the States?”

“Do what?” asked Jack. 

“Wear trousers.”

Jack contemplated the photo of Miss Hepburn, fetchingly dressed in a pants suit and a man’s fedora. “Well, she’s rather famous for wearing them,” he answered. “It’s catching on but most of the women I met still wore dresses.”

“Like to see a woman in a dress myself,” the Admiral said. “How about you?”

“I suppose it depends,” said Jack thinking this was a very odd conversation. “Some women are very attractive in trousers.” He had in fact seen a very attractive woman two weeks ago walking through the park. She had looked very nice in pants—much nicer than Katharine Hepburn, and she had been wearing a beret instead of a fedora.

The Admiral sat back in his chair with an air of satisfaction. Mr. Binnacle was surprised and impressed. Subtlety was not one of the Admiral’s character traits. Usually, he piloted with flags flying and full sails into any and all waters. Yet he had been able to get an answer to the troublesome trouser question without showing his hand. Jack looked confused but not suspicious. 

Obviously the Admiral was all hands on deck with this situation, much quicker than Mr. Binnacle had anticipated. He would have to keep a weather eye out and make sure the Admiral didn’t go overboard. The idea was to keep the Admiral occupied, not to actually marry Jack off to Miss Banks. He didn’t want to run interference between the Admiral’s matchmaking schemes and the two principals involved. Still, Mr. Binnacle was not unduly concerned. The chances of Jack and Miss Banks actually meeting were slim, even if Jack did work on the same street where her brother lived. With their odd schedules they truly were ships that passed in the night. In the year that Jack had worked his route on Cherry Tree Lane, Mr. Binnacle had never seen the two in the same place at the same time. This was in spite of the fact that Jack was in front of the Banks’ house twice a day and Miss Banks a frequent visitor. However, the hours spent planning and engineering such a meeting would do the Admiral a world of good.


	3. Chapter 3

It never occurred to Jack that he could be the object of a matchmaking scheme, especially one perpetrated by two elderly men who had known him since the age of five. The odd conversation about women in trousers didn’t trigger any warnings, though for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why the Admiral had brought the subject up. Still the topic must have been lurking somewhere in his subconscious because he noticed her again. 

It was true that he had told the Admiral that he wasn’t looking for a girl friend. He was too busy and too poor and now was not a good time. However, just because he wasn’t looking didn’t mean he couldn’t see. This time she was boarding a tram. He was sure it was the same woman he’d seen in the park. Trousers were getting more fashionable but he didn’t see them everyday and he remembered the beret. She was tall for a woman, almost as tall as he was, with light brown hair that curled softly around her face. She was even more striking than he remembered and he thought the trousers enhanced her femininity rather than detracted from it. He wondered who she was and if she lived nearby.

In the meantime the Admiral was fretting about how to introduce Jack to Miss Banks in a way that would seem natural and unplanned. Always a keen observer of the neighborhood he had taken to tracking Miss Bank’s movements and realized, like Mr. Binnacle before him, that Jack and Jane were never in Cherry Tree Lane at the same time. “I don’t know why she has to be so busy, always dashing here and there,” he groused. “Why doesn’t she behave like a reasonable girl and live with her brother? In my day a young woman lived with her family until she was married.”

Mr. Binnacle knew that there were many good and sensible reasons for Miss Banks to live outside her brother’s home and to have a job. It was after all 1935. “I admire her independence of spirit,” he told the Admiral. “I think she would be a proper help meet for someone, a true partner rather than a dependant. It would never do to introduce Jack to someone who would be a clinging sort of person like Dora in David Copperfield. Such a person would drive him mad.”

The Admiral shuddered. “Prob’ly throttle her myself,” he said thus casting aside one of Charles Dickens’ most adorable if irritating characters. Binnacle was right. Miss Banks was infinitely preferable to some clingy little creature who would drag Jack down and make him take care of her for the rest of his life. Still he was no closer to formulating a plan to bring Jack and Jane together. In desperation he looked to Mr. Binnacle. “Did they ever meet when they were children? When Bert would come to work, did they ever play together or talk?”

“I don’t think so,” said Mr. Binnacle slowly. “I believe Bert mentioned one time that it would be good if Jack could play with other children but nothing ever came of it.” After a moments thought he said, “I think Jack used to wave to the Banks children from the sidewalk.”

“Used to wave to us too,” said the Admiral. “Just a little tyke then. It was something Bert used to have him do to be friendly. It was like a game, always smiled when we waved back.” The Admiral thought back to that time not so long ago. Jack’s smile had been very engaging. It still was. It wasn’t much, but maybe if they embellished the story a bit Jack might be open to meeting Miss Banks again. He brought the subject up at the next Sunday breakfast.

Unfortunately, Jack had no memory of the event. “No,” he said, “I don’t remember much of the Banks family next door. I think I met Mr. Banks a couple times when he talked to Bert. I do remember Mrs. Brill, the cook, she always gave me a treat when Bert had a job to do. She made the best gingerbread.”

This was not what the Admiral wanted to hear, but he persevered. “You used to wave to the children up in the nursery,” he said. “You had quite a crush on the little girl. She was a sweet little thing with blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“If you say so,” said Jack wondering why the Admiral was interested in ancient history. Jack didn’t remember much about the Banks children. The little blonde girl, if she was still around, was probably married with a family just like her brother. The woman in the park was much more interesting. He’d seen her again, this time going into a printer’s shop. He hadn’t been able to find out anything about her, but if he ever sold one of his songs he was going to walk up and introduce himself. Jack shook himself out of the pleasant daydream. It was never going to happen. Even if he sold 10 songs he’d never have the courage to approach her. Maybe if they happened to bump into each other, his thoughts trailed off. He had no idea where their paths would ever cross.

A week later, Mr. Binnacle and Admiral Boom were once again above deck at Number 16 watching the ballet that was Sunday morning on Cherry Tree Lane. The newspaper had been delivered. The family in Number 19 had relatives visiting. Miss Lark had taken her dog for a walk. Miss Banks had dropped by to see her brother, but she remained frustratingly out of sight when Jack rode up on his bicycle to take care of the lamp. Jack waved good naturedly to the children in the nursery window and then pushed his bike behind the Admiral’s house. Mr. Binnacle’s attention was momentarily diverted by the arrival of two men who knocked on the door of Number 17 and started to nail a notice on the door. That did not look good. “Storm clouds on the horizon sir, heading straight for Cherry Tree Lane,” said Mr. Binnacle.

Jack was sipping his coffee at the table when Mr. Binnacle came down for the Admiral’s breakfast. His natural optimism was a bit thin this morning. Last night Angus had told him that he and Mary were making it official and would be married in three months time. Angus would be taking over the flat and Jack needed to find somewhere else to live. It was not an unexpected development. Jack had already discussed living arrangements with Angus weeks ago when he saw which way the wind was blowing. The flat was good sized and it would be easier for him to find another place for himself than for Angus and Mary to find something comparable. Finding a decent place to stay that he could afford on his own would be a challenge. He might have to take the Admiral up on his offer of the spare room for a while.

It was frustrating to be almost 30 and so unsettled. George Gershwin had been 26 when he wrote Rhapsody in Blue. By the time he was 30 he had a whole string of musicals on Broadway. Not everyone was a genius like Gershwin, or Mozart or Cole Porter. But maybe it was time to stop chasing dreams and settle down. He could give up all the small jobs he’d been doing and find a second job. Something steady with more hours that would take the place of the time he spent trying to write music. Then maybe he could save enough money to ask the woman in the park to dinner, if he was ever lucky enough to meet her. 

“Yesterday you had to borrow from your chums,  
Seems the promise of tomorrow never comes”

The lyric of the song he was working on rose unbidden in his mind. At least he didn’t have little ones to worry about. Jack knew the younger Banks children by sight but not by name. The two older ones in particular liked to wave to him in the morning when he turned down the lamp in front of their house. They seemed like nice kids. It was too bad about their mother. Jack knew how hard it was to lose a parent. He had been five when his papa died and he remembered how sad he had felt. It was on their account that he paid attention to Mr. Binnacle’s remark about rough seas ahead for Number 17. Mr. Binnacle feared that the family next door was in danger of losing their house. Those unfortunate children had been through enough this year without this to worry about. He said so to Mr. Binnacle.

“Yes,” agreed Mr. Binnacle. “Poor Mr. Banks has not been himself since Mrs. Banks died, and I fear the children have suffered for it. He’s been doing his best but it’s been hard for him, first with his wife’s long illness and then caring for the children without her. Fortunately, his sister has been a great help to the family. I don’t know what they would have done without her.”

“Sister?” said Jack. “She must have a family of her own too.”

“Oh no,” said Mr. Binnacle. “Miss Banks isn’t married. She visits quite frequently. I’m surprised you haven’t seen her about.”

Jack shrugged and went back to his thoughts. “Hold on tight to those you love,” was Bert’s motto in bad times. Michael Banks was a fortunate man to have so many people to hold onto and who would hold onto him in return. He wondered if Mr. Banks knew that.

Mr. Binnacle decided to drop the subject of Miss Banks. The whole matchmaking scheme had been concocted to keep the Admiral occupied and so far it was working beautifully. There was no reason that Jack or Miss Banks would ever have to know about it. It was a pity because the more he thought about the improbable match Mr. Binnacle found himself thinking that it really was a good idea.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning found Jack bemused. He had finished his route and was heading home through the city. It had been wonderful seeing Mary Poppins again, though it did feel odd to be the same height. He was used to looking up at her from the level of a child’s eyes. Of course she had come to help the Banks children. He felt a bit wistful and maybe a little jealous too. It would be fun to have an adventure, but it would be different now because he was an adult. He wondered what kind of a role he would have. Maybe he would be like Bert, and be her partner along the way. Jack shook the fantasy out of his mind. He needed to think about the here and now. While it was true he was frustrated and feeling like he was stuck, it was also true that he was definitely luckier than most. He had a job and he wouldn’t be homeless. And he could remember. 

Bert had been a little surprised by that when he found out. He explained to Jack that most children forgot Mary Poppins by the time they reached their teens or thought they had imagined the events that happened. Even the chimney sweeps and leeries didn’t always retain clear memories after meeting her. Their adventures took on a dreamlike quality that stayed a little beneath their conscious thought. It was better that way Bert explained. A person got to keep the joy and hope of the magic without pining for it when they had to deal with everyday life. It seemed to Jack that Bert had been more than a little concerned that he remembered Mary Poppins, but Jack couldn’t think why. Jack wasn’t wasting away missing the magic. Obviously Bert remembered her too and he was doing all right.

Jack slowed his bicycle as he came to the busy intersection in front of the Fidelity Fiduciary Bank. Suddenly he brought the bike to a full stop and stayed on the corner watching the couple emerging from the bank. There she was again, the woman from the park, and she was accompanied by Michael Banks. Jack frowned. He didn’t think Mr. Banks was seeing anyone. Everyone in the neighborhood said that he had been heartbroken by his wife’s death and hadn’t fully recovered. Jack watched as the two embraced and then separated going in different directions. Mr. Banks headed for home, hands in his pockets and head bowed. He didn’t look like a man who had just left a woman he cared for romantically. 

Jack remembered what Mr. Binnacle had said yesterday. Mr. Banks had a sister. Was it possible? Was it actually possible that the woman he had been thinking about was related to the family at Number 17? Was that why he kept seeing her? She was visiting relatives in the neighborhood. Miss Banks, he didn’t even know her first name. But he knew somebody who did and she was staying right there in the house.

Mr. Binnacle had begun to doubt his scheme to get the Admiral involved in Jack’s romantic life. The Admiral had been in a rare stew since Sunday morning when he had seen the woman wearing a blue coat and carrying an old fashioned umbrella with a parrot handle walking purposefully toward Number 17. “I tell you it’s the same woman,” he told Mr. Binnacle, “She’s that Mary Poppins that was nanny to Jane and Michael Banks when they were children. I should have known when the wind came in from the East that she’d be back. She’ll be nothing but trouble for Jack.”

Mr. Binnacle had seen the woman when she arrived. Since then he had caught a few glimpses of her with the children. “It can’t be the same nanny,” he protested. “She would be well over 50 by now and that young woman can’t be more than 30. Perhaps it’s a relative.”

“No, it’s her,” said the Admiral. “She’s not human like that rest of us. She doesn’t age. She’s a siren, that’s what she is, a siren! She sings her song and men come running. She stays in their minds forever and they can’t love a real flesh and blood woman after that. Look what she did to poor Bert—never married, his life ruined. It was all her fault. She made him love her and then left.”

Mr. Binnacle hardly thought Bert’s life was ruined. Bert had survived the war. He had raised Jack successfully and fostered several other boys who regarded him as the only father they had ever known. Two sturdy toddlers had been named after him, and he was affectionately known as Grandpa Bert in both households. Now he was indulging in a life long wish to travel and see the world. It was true Bert had never married, but Mr. Binnacle was inclined to think it was because he was so busy living that time had gotten away from him.

However, it was useless to try and reason with the Admiral when he had made up his mind. He was convinced that the Banks’ new nanny was the same woman from 25 years ago, that she wasn’t quite human, and that Jack was in danger of falling into her coils. Mr. Binnacle was relieved to get the Admiral settled for the night. He shut the curtains on the bedroom window and did not mention to the Admiral that he had just seen Jack on the balcony of Number 17 talking to the nanny. Both men would have been relieved had they known the topic of conversation, and even more pleased to know that they had provided Jack with an explanation for his inquiry.

“Do you know,” said Jack, trying to sound nonchalant, “I used to wave up to the boy and girl who lived here.” 

“You mean Michael and Jane,” asked Mary Poppins.

Jack nodded. “Miss Jane Banks, that’s right. I see Mr. Banks now and again, but it’s been ages since I’ve seen her.” At least not officially, though by now he was pretty sure he had.

Mary Poppins looked at Jack and considered. Jack had never been good at hiding his feelings and right now he was practically transparent. She had come back to take care of the Banks children, all of them. Michael’s difficulties were self explanatory. Jane’s were more complicated. Mary Poppins had no issues with being single. It was not the be all and end all for young women to marry. A single life freely chosen because of vocation or because one had not found the right person was as good, or better, than any other kind of life. But Mary Poppins had sensed an air of resignation about Jane. 

It is an unfortunate fact that the world contains a number of manipulative people who can convince you that everything is your fault. Jane’s engagement had ended shortly before her wedding, and she was not the kind of person who shared details. There were probably things said and done that not even Michael knew about. Yes, Jane had been brave enough to end it, but that didn’t mean the experience had left her unscarred. Mary Poppins was sure that Jane’s ex fiancé was at the root of the problem. Somehow he had persuaded her into believing that she was incapable of properly loving someone and being loved in return.

It wasn’t true, and Michael or one of her friends would set her right in an instant if they knew. But Jane was a private person. What she needed was someone to shine a light on the old shadows of the past and show her otherwise. And who knew more about shining light than a lamplighter? Goodness knows he certainly seemed interested in the job. 

“She lives in a flat on the other side of town,” Mary Poppins said. “I’m sure you’ll bump into her one of these days.”


	5. Chapter 5

Nerves of steel and the courage to seize the chance, that’s what was needed, thought the Admiral on Tuesday morning as he watched Jack from the roof of Number 16. Somehow he must disentangle Jack from the coils of that wretched Poppins woman and point him towards Miss Banks or all would be lost. What was wrong with the boy this morning? He seemed to be dawdling. Jack had polished the glass on that light two times already and was fiddling with the knob. The admiral hoped Jack wasn’t dragging out the job in expectation of seeing the nanny.

Jack was dawdling. He was happy and he didn’t want to lose the feeling by hurrying through his work. He had moved slowly all morning remembering the fun of last night. Had it really happened? Already it was taking on the quality of a dream, but Jack was determined to remember it in all its amazing detail. He had gone on an adventure with Mary Poppins and the children. Only this time he had been an adult, just like Bert had been when Jack was a boy. Jack had been to the Music Hall before with Bert and Mary Poppins. It had been called something else and had been in one of Bert’s chalk drawings, but it was essentially the same place. As a child he had watched as Bert introduced Mary Poppins to the crowd and coaxed her to sing. It was all part of the fun, and Jack knew the role he was supposed to play.

He fully expected that once on stage she would perform Chim Chiminy or Supercalifragilistic… Instead she had surprised him by singing The Cover Is Not the Book. It was one of his silly songs, written on the spur of the moment just for fun. She had left out some of the bawdier verses, probably a good thing considering the age of the audience. But the song had sure sounded good on stage even with an orchestra and a chorus composed of penguins and elephants. How had she known he asked? Mary Poppins never explained. “You were always much better at writing the melodies to your songs Jack,” she said. “You should pay more attention to the lyrics. You might learn something about yourself.”

Bert had once told him that Mary Poppins came to help the children but she often wound up helping the adults too. Last night had been a tremendous boost to his confidence. This morning the world was his. He could do anything, everything was possible even the impossible. He was not going to give up writing music and if the lovely Miss Banks came by he was going to introduce himself and offer her a ride on his bicycle. Jack laughed. Where in the world did that crazy idea come from? He slid down the ladder and promptly knocked the woman of his dreams to the ground and scattered the papers she was carrying all over the sidewalk.

From up above the Admiral watched in satisfaction. He had seen Miss Banks coming down the road toward her brother’s house. “Now or never,” he thought, “Carpe diem, nerves of steel.” He waited a split second and then called from the deck, “Ahoy fair lady!” In surprise Miss Banks looked up. “Oh hullo, good morning,” she said and walked into Jack just as he slid down the ladder. Not the most elegant of meetings thought the Admiral, but it would do, it would do.

Beside the Admiral, Mr. Binnacle was filled with wonder and amazement. “Hoist by my own petard,” he thought to himself. The Admiral had actually pulled it off. The two young people below were talking as they picked up the flyers. Snatches of conversation floated up to the roof. 

Below on the street Jack’s mind was in a state of chaos. He felt like he’d been the one knocked down. He was trying to apologize and pick up 100 small pieces of paper that were going in every direction. Thankfully the young woman appeared to be all right, and she was being awfully polite about everything, but what a horrible first impression to make. He was dimly aware that Mary Poppins had appeared on the balcony and was speaking to both of them. She called the woman Jane—so it really was Miss Banks that he had almost flattened. “You’re Miss Banks,” he heard himself saying as he tried to pick up more flyers. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I used to wave to you when I’d see you up there in that very window.” 

Up above on Number 16 Mr. Binnacle winced. “Uh oh,” he thought. “That could be dangerous.” He hoped that Miss Banks’ memory was better than Jack’s. 

Apparently it was. Miss Banks paused, “Jack… Yes, yes of course I remember. Please call me Jane.” Mr. Binnacle let out his breath and relaxed a bit.

“Course I was much younger then,” said Jack. That was an understatement. He had been all of six years old at the time.

“True, but your smile hasn’t changed a bit,” said Miss Banks.

Maybe Miss Banks memory wasn’t that good after all, thought Mr. Binnacle. Jack’s smile had changed a good deal. For one thing he had all of his teeth. Mr. Binnacle remembered the endearing, gap toothed grin Jack had given people when his baby teeth started falling out. When he smiled you couldn’t help but smile back. That part was definitely the same. Maybe that’s what Miss Banks meant.

Leaving the Admiral to watch, Mr. Binnacle went to ready the cannon for this morning’s salute. This might just work out after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The following Saturday Jack finished his route and pushed his bicycle behind the Admiral’s house. Exhausted from the night’s labors he passed through the kitchen and headed toward the library where he lay down on the sofa for a few minutes of rest before he joined the Admiral and Mr. Binnacle for breakfast. He was sound asleep when Mr. Binnacle found him there a few minutes later. Not even the roar of the canon was enough to rouse him and he slumbered on until early afternoon.

Mr. Binnacle and the Admiral were bursting with questions. Why had Mr. Banks and his sister driven off so quickly in the moving van? Was Mr. Banks going to be able to keep his house? Where had Jack taken the children so precipitously and where was everybody now? Jack answered the questions as best he could. Mr. Banks had found the shares certificate and had driven off to the bank to present it. Yes, he was going to be able to keep the house. The family was all staying at Jane’s flat for the time being. There were some long overdue repairs that should be done and Jane had convinced her brother that they could be accomplished more easily if the house was empty. Since he had already paid a month’s storage for the furniture there was no need to hurry back. It was good news for Jack’s friends. Michael planned on hiring them to do most of the work. Several had been employed as skilled builders and craftsmen before the slump had hit.

The Admiral was pleased. He liked having the Banks family as neighbors and was happy they were going to stay. Also, it had not escaped his notice that Jack was referring to Miss Banks by her first name. That was a very good sign. If only the nanny would go away. The Admiral was still convinced that she was trouble.

Over the next two weeks a flurry of activity engulfed Number 17. A new coat of paint went on over the bedroom walls and the entryway. The pipes under the kitchen sink were patched until Angus could fix them properly over the course of the next month. One of Jack’s other friends inspected the electrical wiring and upgraded the ancient fuse box. Mr. Banks and his sister were in and out during the day cleaning and airing out the rooms while the children were at school. Jack was a frequent visitor, helping out here and there and doing what he could. The weather started to warm and the buds on the cherry trees started to swell up ready to blossom. It seemed that spring had finally decided to make an appearance just in time for the fair.

Everything seemed to be going well, but Mr. Binnacle sensed that something was bothering Jack. The Banks family was set to return to their home on the day of the Spring fair, but Jack was not there to greet them. Instead he was at the Admiral’s house helping Mr. Binnacle get the elderly seafarer downstairs and into his wheel chair. The Admiral was feeling much better and wanted to be out and about. A beautiful spring day spent at the fair was just the ticket. As Mr. Binnacle pushed the Admiral and his wheel chair towards the park, Jack accompanied them with his bicycle. He told Mr. Binnacle that he would stop in the evening after his route and help him escort the Admiral up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom.

“Rubbish!” said the Admiral. “We can manage just fine. Going up is much safer than coming down. Just have to stop and rest a few times.” Behind him Mr. Binnacle rolled his eyes and shook his head indicating to Jack that he would appreciate the help. “Why aren’t you next door waiting for the Banks family?” the Admiral continued. “Thought you’d be there to welcome them home. You’ve been over there helping everyday for the last two weeks.”

“Well, it’s really more of a family event,” said Jack. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Why do you think you’d be intruding?” asked Mr. Binnacle. “They all seem pretty fond of you. Thought I heard young Georgie Banks calling you Uncle Jack the other day.”

“Oh that,” said Jack flushing slightly. “Miss Lark made the comment that it was rude for the children to be addressing me by my first name. Thought they should call me Mr. But that seemed kind of foolish, since they’d been calling me Jack right along. So Georgie came up with the bright idea to call me Uncle Jack. Kind of embarrassed Jane because Miss Lark pulled her aside and starting asking all sorts of questions.”

“So what did Miss Banks say?” asked Mr. Binnacle. “Or weren’t you supposed to hear?”

“Jane made it very clear that nothing was going on and that we were just good friends,” replied Jack in a careful voice trying to sound as if he was making a casual remark about the weather.

“Oh…,” said Mr. Binnacle. “Well, really what else could Miss Banks say? Miss Lark is a very estimable woman but she’s well, she’s…”

“A damned, interfering old busybody,”* said the Admiral. “None of her business what’s going on between you two. Early days yet. Jane Banks probably doesn’t want you being embarrassed by folks gossiping.”

“Do you think so?” asked Jack hopefully.

“I do,” said the Admiral. “No lady would admit to anything more than friendship so soon, especially if the young man had not yet made his intentions clear.” And the Admiral looked sternly at Jack.

Jack looked back and than straightened his shoulders. “You’re right,” he said. “I think I’ll head back to Number 17.”

“Maybe you should go to the park,” said Mr. Binnacle. “The Banks children appear to be coaxing their father to take them to the fair.”

Jack looked up in time to see the family going through the park gate. He pushed his bike across the street, parked it next to the gate and walked purposefully into the entrance. Mr. Binnacle and the Admiral followed at a more sedate pace. Up ahead they could see Jack earnestly talking to a smiling Miss Banks. He appeared to be buying her a balloon. If he had to guess Mr. Binnacle would have said that Jack’s intentions were more than clear. The Admiral thought so too but he decided a little more encouragement was needed. “Don’t you lose her son!” he called. Jack turned with a smile. “I won’t sir.” he replied.

*I find this rather ironic coming from the Admiral who has been interfering from the start but self-awareness has never been one of his strengths. 😊


	6. Chapter 6

Later that day Mr. Binnacle settled the blanket over the Admiral’s lap and pushed the wheelchair towards home. The Banks family had left just before them. That was strange thought Mr. Binnacle. He had just realized that he had seen the Banks family entering the park with their nanny but he hadn’t seen her when they left.

The Admiral was exhausted but exhilarated. “So what do you say to a little wager?” he asked Mr. Binnacle. “A crown says they’ll be married a year from now.”

“Oh no,” said Mr. Binnacle, “Much sooner than that. I’d say Christmas time. Bert’s supposed to be back by then.” 

“Money’ll be tight,” said the Admiral. “Jack will want to save a bit. I still say next spring.”

“Maybe Jack will sell one of his songs,” said Mr. Binnacle. “If that happens they won’t have to worry so much about money.” He watched from across the street as Jack jauntily tied his balloon to the bike and rode away. A shadow passed over them and Mr. Binnacle looked up to see what had caused it. Whatever it was it was gone now. He paused a moment to look up at the sky. It was a beautiful shade of blue and the clouds were almost perfectly white. London was more famous for its fogs than its clear days. Today was breathtaking. He looked down at the Admiral. “I suppose everything is possible,” the old seafarer said, “Even the impossible. But it does seem like that would take a little help.”

“Well, you never know,” said Mr. Binnacle. He hummed a few bars of the song Jack had been working on. 

So hold on tight to those you love  
And maybe soon from up above  
You’ll be blessed so keep on looking high  
While you’re underneath the lovely London sky

He took one last look at the beautiful sky above and then bent down to help the Admiral out of his chair and into the house.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lady Hyacinth McCall  
Brought all her treasures to a reef  
Where she only wore a smile  
Plus two feathers and a leaf

Charlie Cobb, comedian, raconteur, song and dance man, and star of the West End, could hear his daughter’s voice bellowing all the way down the hall. Charlie Jr. was shy as a little mouse, but Kimmy was a chip off the old block. She had rigged the curtains of her four poster bed to look like a stage and all her dolls and animals were arranged in a semi circle watching as she sang and danced energetically on the mattress.

“Ere now,” he said looking in the door of her room. “Where’d you hear that song?”

“At school,” said Kimmy bouncing up and down on the bed. “Georgie Banks taught it to me. He got in trouble ‘cause teacher said it was vulgar, but I liked it.”

Charlie refrained from saying what he thought about Kimmy’s teacher. It wasn’t respectful and she needed to mind her elders. “But where’d Georgie Banks learn it?” he asked.

“His friend Jack wrote it,” said Kimmy executing a graceful jump to the floor followed by a pirouette when she landed. “Are you taking me to the fair daddy? Mama says she’ll stay home with Charlie.”

“In a bit,” said her dad. “I need to make a phone call first.”

Jack, he thought, couldn’t be. Last he knew Bert’s kid had been in the States. Jack had been smart as a whip and talented too. He’d told Bert a hundred times if Jack ever wrote something to send it his way and he’d give it a look. Bert should know he needn’t be shy around old friends. Course now that he was famous Charlie had people who ran interference for him. They kept him from being bothered by folks who said they were old friends and wanted favors. That could be good and it could be bad. 

He picked up the phone and called his assistant. Yes, said that efficient young man, he knew what Mr. Cobb was looking for, an envelope with ten songs. Yes, he remembered the person who brought it, a tall gentleman, called himself Bert. No, he had looked through a few and they weren’t very good so he hadn’t brought it to Mr. Cobb’s attention. No, he still had it, did Mr. Cobb want him to run it over. Mr. Cobb did and in about 20 minutes his assistant appeared at the front door with the envelope.

The first few songs were pretty bad. Charlie wasn’t surprised his assistant didn’t think they were worth showing him. But one further down had a really good melody. That didn’t surprise Charlie either. Jack had always been a musician first. Pairing him up with a good lyricist might produce some decent songs. Most songwriters worked as a team splitting music and words. It was more unusual to find someone who did both. Still, as Charlie worked his way through the pile the songs got better. Three of them had potential and might be all right with a little work, and two of them were brilliant. No sign of the one Kimmy was singing but based on the last two songs he bet Jack had written that one too. Now he just had to find him.

Charlie pondered the situation in the back seat of the cab as he and Kimmy headed towards the fair. Bert had delivered the songs almost a year ago and the paper with Jack’s address was missing. He didn’t even know if Jack was in England, but if he was he’d probably be in London. Knowing Jack he’d be working three or four jobs to make ends meet and none of them would be behind a desk. He’d start with some of the old gang and see if any of them had seen Jack lately.

“Look daddy,” said Kimmy tugging on his arm. “That man has a balloon on his bike.” 

Charlie looked out the car window at the lamplighter heading home from his route. 

“Well what do you know,” he said to himself. He ordered the driver to stop the car and opened the door.


End file.
